


Birthday Shenanigans

by dreamerbee



Series: Bit Like Shakespeare [6]
Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-16
Updated: 2012-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-12 06:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerbee/pseuds/dreamerbee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the worst birthday Catherine ever had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Shenanigans

**Author's Note:**

> [Nina](http://archiveofourown.org/users/betweenacts)
> 
> , this is for you. C:

Catherine sighed deeply as she got home, running a hand through her wet hair as she shrugged off her soaking coat and threw herself on the couch.

She looked up at the ceiling, staring deeply into the cracks on the painting, so intently it was as if they could unveil all the secrets of the universe to her.

And yet she couldn’t see them; not at all.

She just had the worst day ever. It had rained all day long; a bus had thrown water on her while she was running down the sidewalk, heading to work (late, no big surprise here) and she had to walk the rest of the way to the theatre soaked to the bones, the audience had been particularly picky that night, she just received countless bills she wasn’t sure she would be able to afford through the mail, her mother had a small indisposition that made her end the day at the hospital…

…And it was her birthday.

She had probably missed all the phone calls she could have got due to her last-minute hospital trip. No birthday calls from her mates or her family. No party, no night out down the pub to drink non-alcoholic drinks while everyone got pissed and laughed at her. No cake, no gifts, no nothing.  
Just the thought of it made her want to weep as she sat by herself in her empty flat – oh yes, empty. David was at Stratford. She was by herself.  He hadn’t even ringed her to wish her a happy birthday – she thought he would do so first thing in the morning, but no. And if he did so later, she had also missed his call.

Somehow this was the worst thing about her terrible day.

The power he had when it came to making her day turn out good or bad was quite scary when she stopped to think about it. Everything else could’ve been awful – but she would be smiling by now if she had listened to his voice, or if she knew she was going to do so once she was back home.

She shuddered, droplets of water falling from her wet hair. She was getting attached; the thought of it made her feel like someone had shoved several ice cubes down her throat. Catherine didn’t do “attached”. Catherine didn’t do “settled down”, she didn’t do “conventional wife”. She wasn’t marriage material.

Except when it came to David, apparently.

She felt like crying. She didn’t want to be so invested on him, really; what if he let her down? What if he broke her heart? She didn’t think relationships were inherently made to last forever; she didn’t feel compelled to giving her trust freely and overall had a quite practical approach to the whole sentimental business.

And then came along a daft, skinny Scottish boy who made her laugh and quoted Shakespeare, and he turned her carefully built emotional balance upside down.

She mentally slapped herself. This was just like her: she was happy with someone and here she was, getting ready to wreck it all just because she noticed she was getting too involved.   
She needed to stop being stupid. She needed to stop destroying all her chances at a steady, healthy relationship just because of her own silly insecurities.

But most of all, she needed a bath and she needed to change into dry clothes.

She was soaking in the tub, feeling the hot water wash away her tensions away at least, when the phone rang.

Catherine cursed so loud she knew she must have woken up her neighbours.

Grumbling, she ran to the living room; dripping water all over the carpet.

She knew all about astral hell, but she also knew it was supposed to _end_ on your birthday.

“Hello”, she practically snarled as she picked up the phone. If it was someone selling something, she would throw a fit right there, clad in her fluffy pink towel, neighbours be damned.

“Happy birthday, birthday girl!”

All her anger suddenly disappeared as she heard his strong Scottish accent. She could practically hear his broad grin and pictured him, all flushed from the stage lights, calling her from a paid phone outside the theatre and smiling like a loon under the pouring rain.

“Oh, David.” She allowed herself a moment of weakness as she felt tears welling up “It’s been everything but happy.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, love. I wish I was there to comfort you, I--” He sounded genuinely heartbroken. She felt guilt starting to wash over her. He probably had a thousand problems of his own right now and here she was, moaning like a spoiled child – she was the worst girlfriend ever.

She realized she was already sobbing softly.

“Do you want to talk about it, love?”

And then she was babbling while sobbing pathetically, telling him all that had happened and probably sounding like the most childish 28 years old to ever walk on Earth.

Not that he told her that. He merely listened, oohing and aahing at all the right moments and muttering words of comfort once her crying got to fierce for her to keep talking.

“Oh, Catherine, I really wish I was over there now. I’m so sorry-”

“No! No, don’t apologize. David, for God’s sake, it’s your work--”

“I know, but I still wish I was over there.”

“…I wish you were here too” She muttered, feeling her cheeks warm as she finally admitted it out loud.

She knew she sounded pathetic and she didn’t care. She wanted him there. She wanted to hold him, to cuddle with him on the couch while watching horrible B movies, to order something a little less cheap than they used to as a manner of celebrating, to lose herself in his embrace and his kisses. To sleep next to him, listening to the rain fall.

Now she was sounding like a sap fool. Perhaps she really was turning soft with age.

But David seemed to like to hear her saying she missed him, because he chuckled softly.

“Say. I can’t be there with you – and to be honest I won’t be able to be with you over the phone for much longer ‘cause I’m almost running out of change – but you know what? You go to out room and open the drawer in your bedside table. Will you do that?”

She nodded before remembering he couldn’t really see her.

“Yes. Yes, I will.”

“I love you, you know that?” He whispered warmly and she could feel her blush deepen.

“You fool.”

“Yup, I am. But I do love you.”

“Just as well, ‘cause I—”

The call was cut off.

 

She forgot all about her hot bath – which probably wouldn’t be that hot once she came back – and instead skipped to the bedroom, feeling her heart pound. She was bursting with curiosity, nervously biting her thumb as she rummaged through the complete mess that was her bedside table. She cursed loudly, once in her life furious at herself for keeping the nasty habit of throwing anything that she might have been looking at inside her drawer once she felt too tired to remain awake. She cursed twice as loud when she realized David must’ve chosen the hiding place with the sole intent to piss her off, since he had complained a hundred times about the state of her table.

She begrudgingly admitted he _might_ have a point as she threw piles and piles of old receipts, letters, paperbacks and paid bills on her bed, looking for her gift.

Then she finally stumbled upon something she didn’t remember throwing inside the drawer.

It was a small velvet box.

She turned it around, contemplating it, as realization struck it and she threw it away from her, as if it had burnt her once she touched it. It landed on top of her mess of papers; Catherine remained staring intently at it, as if it was some kind of dangerous monster.

But it couldn’t be it.

No. He wouldn’t do this to her. Not on her birthday. No.

But then again, it _was_ David she was talking about…

When she stopped to think about it, it had David written all over it. She _could_ see him doing it, not even minding the fact it was her birthday and she shouldn’t be burdened with this kind of decision. Not when her head was already spinning; not when she was turning 28.

No. She wouldn’t think like that. _No._

It couldn’t be a…

She felt herself shuddering thinking about it.

It couldn’t be a… _ring_ , could it?

All at once, insecurity washed over her yet again.

She felt like crying. She couldn’t believe David had done that.   
What was he _doing_? Did he really think he was doing something that’d manage to make her feel _better_ after the shitty day she had? Oh God, he probably did. And that only made her more despicable.

Because she didn’t think she could say yes.

 

She stared at the small box for what felt like hours.

She felt on the verge of a mental breakdown. A thousand scenarios ran through her head, and not a single outcome looked positive in the slightest. She knew David. She knew him too well. She knew he wasn’t going to accept rejection gracefully; not when it came to something like _that_.

She could always say ‘yes’, except she wouldn’t. She didn’t feel like she could do it. It would be a violence against herself; and even if she went ahead and _did_ say ‘yes’, she knew she would end fucking it all up sooner or later – probably sooner.

For the next hours she paced up and down the room nervously, practicing lines as if it was something akin to a part she was getting ready to perform.

_“David, I know we’ve known each other for some time…”_

_“David, I’m so, so sorry…”_

_“I don’t want to hurt you, but I don’t think I can do it…”_

_“Please don’t be offended, I—”_

She groaned in frustration as she threw herself on the bed, once again eyeing the small velvet box of doom.

He would come home, smile at her and ask her if she liked the gift.

Just imagining the expression on his face as she recited her well-practised speech was enough to make her heart break.

She toyed with the box absent-mindedly.

“Why did you have to wreck such havoc on my day, huh? It’s not like it needed your help.”

First sign of insanity. Talking to small velvet boxes.

She kept fiddling with it, lost in her own thoughts.

Never in her life had she wanted that badly to be able to do something she didn’t think she was able to do.

Never in her life had she hated herself so much.

“Well. Might as well open you, eh? He’ll be even more heartbroken if I can’t even tell him the ring ‘looks lovely, but…’. He’ll be able to tell if I’m lying, won’t we?” She sighed. “I wish you actually had better advice for me, you stupid little velvety thing, you.”

With one last deep sigh, she opened the box.

And inside it, there was a small pendant.

She knew she was being childish by feeling so relieved, but she still couldn’t hold back her loud sobs.

 

He came home that Monday, grinning widely; his smile got even bigger once he saw she was wearing the pendant.

“You’re wearing it!”

“Yes!” She smiled back at him “I haven’t taken it off ever since I saw it.”

“You actually liked it! I can’t believe it!” He swarmed her in a big bear hug, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He sighed deeply as he nuzzled her skin “God, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too…” She mumbled coyly “It’s good to have you home.”

“And I’m glad I’m able to be here.” He briefly kissed the spot he had just nuzzled, tightening his hold on her before whispering “I love you so much, Catherine…”

She hesitated just for a second.

“I love you too, David.”

And she meant it.  
But when he dusted kisses all over her face and her neck, swiftly leading her to their bedroom, she felt her stomach drop.

Because she knew it would all end one day, and when the day came it would probably be her fault.

 

_end._


End file.
